Dreams
by AlsoI'mBatman
Summary: Young Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne have a heart to heart talk after little Dickie has a nightmare. Bruce tries to make him feel better.


**Dreams**

A scream rang out through the Manor.

As soon as Bruce heard it he was instantly out of bed and standing in the hallway outside his door. He stood for a moment, wondering if he had really heard it or if he was just imagining things. No more noise came through the halls. _I need to get more sleep..._

Bruce turned back to his room when an instinct told him something was wrong. _Alfred's in the other wing of the house, he wouldn't have heard it._ He turned back to stare at the empty hallway and stuggled to form thoughts with his half-asleep mind. After a while he was starting to piece things together.

The young boy, Dick Grayson had just come to live at the Wayne Manor a few months ago. _Night terrors, maybe? I know how that feels. _Bruce started his walk down the hall to the boy's room. He cringed as he thought of all the terrible visions that formed when he closed his own eyes. He had understood the small boy from the very beginning, when he had been present in the audience as Dick's parents fell, after all he too had seen his own parents die. _The dream's about t__hem__ are so much worse. _He thought, as he shut his eyes tightly. He stopped walking as his mind drifted to the many times he had woken up screaming or even vomiting after seeing his own parent's murder so many times in his sleep. He continued walking to the boy's room with much more speed.

He stopped just outside the door, hand raised to knock, when he noticed the quietness from within. _Maybe I __was__ imagining it..._ He had a brief moment of doubt before he heard a small sniffle come from inside the room. He removed his hand from where it rested, poised above the door in a pose to knock, and instead gently turned the doorhandle. As he peeked open the door he glanced inside caustiously. The small, sniffling child was looking up from where he sat on the floor at the foot of his bed. Dick was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chin, and now peered up at Bruce through dark eyelashes.

Something in Bruce's chest tightened at the picture and he wordlessly moved to sit next to the boy. Comfortable silence passed over the two as Bruce knelt down. Bruce put a worried hand on Dick's shoulder as he settled in beside him. He waited for Dick to speak, he knew from experience the last thing he would want was to feel like someone was prying into his thoughts.

"Bruce," Dick started off with a whisper, "It _hurts_."

Dick closed his eyes and started attempting to form slow, controlled breaths. Bruce knew the young acrobat wasn't talking about a physical injury, the look in his bright blue eyes told him that it was emotional pain. Bruce moved closer to him while at the same time keeping a steady hand on his back until their sides were touching.

"The dreams?" Bruce cautiously asked. Dick looked up slowly and calculatingly before nodding his head.

"They told me I scream in my sleep, Bruce. Is that true?" Water was still leaking down his flushed cheeks, and he looked down and then up at Bruce through his eyelashes again.

"Dick, do you know that I got night terrors when I was your age?" Bruce asked, ignoring the question, hoping Dick would drop it, he didn't want to make the boy feel worse. _Knowing Dick he would feel terrible about anything that might be considered mildly displeasing to us. _Bruce moved the hand he was resting on Dick's back to the young boy's opposite shoulder to pull him further into his side. Dick shook his head and wiped a few of the stray tears from his cheeks.

"No." Dick continued looking at his arms where they rested on his knees as he leaned his head against Bruce's shoulder.

"Well, I did. And still do, actually," at this confession Dick flicked his eyes upward to meet Bruce's gaze,"They still affect me greatly. I've learned to deal with them."

Dick sniffled softly, "But do they ever get better? I mean do they ever not..." Dick paused to think of the right word to use, "_hurt_?"

Bruce sighed and looked to the distance. _I'd love to say they didn't, chum._ He thought carefully to gather his next words.

"I can't say they get less painful, but it _does_ get easier to _deal_ with." He looked back toward the young acrobat to find that he had started to stare down at his arms again. He used his free hand to nudge Dick's chin upwards to meet his gaze.

"It will all be okay, Dickie. I... I can't bring your parents back, I can't even give you your old life back. I hope you know that I would spend all the money in the world to give it to you, because I know... I know you deserve better. Better than what I can give you, but what I _can _do for you is make sure it'll all be ok," Heat behind Bruce's eyes forced him to pause, "Nothing is going to bring you down, Dick Grayson, you're going to be the best acrobat, superhero, and _person_ this city ever raised."

Dick's eyes widened and more tears spilled down his cheeks. Bruce tightened his grip on his shoulder, and Dick tucked his head into Bruce's neck in return. They sat in comfortable silence until Dick's sobs quieted down. Bruce found himself brushing stray tears off his own cheeks.

"You don't have to bring them back, Bruce. I don't... I don't think I need them anymore, I think I understand what Pop Haley told me, I need to... let them go," his eyes met Bruces and simutaniously, both sets of eyes started to water.

"That doesn't mean you forget them, Dick." Bruce cautioned.

"I know. I never will. I just don't want to keep feeling like my insides are being ripped out whenever I think of them..."

A muscle in Bruce's cheek twictched. He knew that feeling all to well: gut-wrenching pain. He rested his cheek on the top of Dick's head.

"That feeling _does_ go away," he soothed.

"I think it's already starting to," Dick mumbled,"I don't want my old life back either," he revisited the last topic they had been on, "I like my life now. If everything that happened wouldn't have happened... I would never be here... I would never be Robin... I would never know Alfred and I would never know... you." Dick whispered the last word and Bruce closed his eyes, but a single tear made it's way through even so.

"I'm not glad they died, but I'm glad I'm here."

"They would be so proud of you, Dick." Bruce blurted out the words before he could stop himself. He decided to continue once he heard his own words out loud.

"They would absoulutly love the person you've become, even just in these past few months, in the short time you've been in my care, you've changed. You didn't let your parent's deaths destroy you, instead you let it make you better, and I think... I _know_ they would be proud of you today."

Dick used both of his arms to wrap Bruce in an embrace. He knew it was Bruce's way of saying he was proud of him too. Tears now freely rolled down both of their cheeks, and as they made eye contact Bruce gave a low chuckle and wiped them away.

"I think it's almost time for breakfast anyway, Dickie. We might as well stay awake." The billionaire got to his feet and offered a hand to Dick. He took it graciously and Bruce helped pull him to his feet. Bruce turned to the door.

"Bruce." Dick whispered. Bruce turned back to the young acrobat. Dick stepped forward and wrapped the billionaire in a hug.

As Bruce wrapped his arms around the boy in return, he heard him whisper, "Thank you... for everything."

Even Bruce couldn't help the smile that reached his lips at the young boy's whispered words.


End file.
